


The Truth About Cats and Dogs

by LittleSammy



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:58:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSammy/pseuds/LittleSammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McGee notices something puzzling about his co-workers but he can't quite put his finger on it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth About Cats and Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Slight spoilers for episode 9x01. Like, blink and you'll miss them. Otherwise, there's nothing to rate here. Move along.

"McGee," she says. Just that, just his name. 

There isn't any real tension to Ziva's voice. She doesn't even look down to see if he obeys the quiet command to take his eyes to a more neutral place than her cleavage, probably because she knows that him staring isn't the same as Tony staring. She knows most of the time McGee is so focused on doing his job that his thoughts (and eyes) hardly ever stray. And most of the time he doesn't even realize she's a sexual being.

Oh, he knows she's all grown up in all the right places, and he also knows that she's no nun and probably had more sex already than he'll ever have. But that's theoretical knowledge. It's like knowing deep down inside, on a purely intellectual level, that his parents must have done it at least once or he wouldn't exist. (Twice, actually, since his sister most likely wasn't delivered by the mailman.) It's not something he ever spends a deeper thought on, though, because Ziva is... well, she's family. And you really don't spend time imagining your family naked, for whatever reason.

Which, of course, is a rule that doesn't apply to Tony, and so Ziva has to -- usually -- take on a much firmer stance with him than McGee. With McGee, it's usually more than enough to say his name in a certain tone of voice to remind him his eyes are inappropriately off track and he just hasn't noticed it yet.

Usually.

Today, McGee feels himself trapped in a dangerous downward spiral while she keeps working on the metal cover somewhere above his head. It's between them and their evidence, and while he keeps supporting her weight so she can reach the cover, while she keeps cursing and the impromptu screwdriver keeps slipping, his eyes stay locked on their target for once and he keeps staring down her shirt.

There's a perfect bite mark on her left breast.

On the inner curve of it, to be exact, just high enough so it isn't covered by her white cotton bra, and the practical, almost innocent piece of clothing boggles his mind because it is in stark contrast to the reality of the purplish mark stating loud and clear that someone has sucked it into her flesh not too long ago.

McGee blinks rapidly, then forces himself to close his eyes and keep them closed until Ziva gets the job done and he can step back into a safe distance, both physically and mentally.

*** *** ***

The thing is, it keeps haunting him. He would have never guessed that one day he would end up obsessing about Ziva David's breasts (or, well, one of them, really), but now he does, and the part of him that is a good investigator recalls the lingering shadows of teeth on her soft skin and the slight bruising around them at very inopportune moments. It isn't until everyone else has left for lunch that he actually begins to wonder who made that mark.

*** *** ***

"McGee," Abby says, and he blinks and realizes that once more his thoughts have strayed to places he never went to before in his life. And even though he tries to rein his wayward brain back in, he doesn't quite succeed, and so his mouth slips in the wake of his treacherous musings.

"Abby, do you know if Ray Cruz is back in town?" he blurts out.

It takes a moment until she reacts, but eventually she shakes her head. "He isn't. Still undercover somewhere. I think Ziva stopped writing him."

"Huh," he says, and he must have sounded really puzzled because Abby suddenly shoots him a sideways glance. "Do you know if she's seeing anyone new?"

That gets her by surprise, and for a second her fingers actually still on the keyboard. "I don't think so," she replies after a while, and he can tell she's curious now. "Why?"

"Because," he answers without thinking and gestures vaguely up and down his own chest, "I saw that she has a bite mark on her--" And that's when he realizes this may have been his most un-smart move to date because Abby's eyes widen and she turns to face him full on with a look he can't quite place, but which makes him extremely uncomfortable. "Uhm," he says and clears his throat. "Nevermind."

She keeps staring at him, though, and her eyes narrow until McGee squirms in his seat. "And how did _you_ get to see Ziva's neverminds?" she asks eventually, a hint of frost in her voice.

He tries to come up with an answer that will keep him alive for a little longer, but none of the ones he can immediately think of sound particularly harmless, and so he is left staring at Abby like a deer in the headlights, mouth gaping open and ready to say something, but no sound coming out.

He's saved by the bell, so to speak, because just then Tony saunters into the lab, armed with a killer smile that raises instant suspicion and an extra-large cup of Caf-Pow for bribery.

McGee breathes a sigh of relief when Abby's attention immediately switches focus, and he almost believes he got out of this one through sheer luck. But then she turns back to him once more and raises her index finger threateningly, and yeah, the thought had been too good to be true.

*** *** ***

"What happened to your neck?" Abby asks while she's once again typing furiously, and it's weird, but Tony's face changes subtly in response. He keeps leafing through the case file he brought along and doesn't even look up, but there's always been that certain way he has when he wants to avoid a discussion, when he looks down while his eyes are all wide and fake-innocent and his eyebrows rise the slightest bit. He's looking like that right now.

"Cat-sitting," he replies, still not looking up. "For my neighbor."

"And the kitty has an attitude?" There's something in Abby's tone that makes McGee look up, just in time to see the hint of a smile play around Tony's lips.

"You could say that," he says, and McGee wonders about the strangely content expression. He's never seen that kind of look on Tony's face before, and that's decidedly weird. He would have never suspected him to be the pet type.

*** *** ***

Abby snorts derisively the moment Tony flounces out of the lab again, and McGee stares at her in slight confusion. "He really thinks he'll get away with the cat excuse?"

McGee blinks slowly while he waits for his mind to get back on track with hers. Except today this is apparently not happening, and so he's left asking, "Uhm. Why wouldn't he?"

Abby sighs, turns in her seat and places her palms on either side of his face. "You are really adorable in your innocence, Timmy," she says, and he blushes furiously because whenever she touches him like that he doesn't feel all that innocent.

Then she lets go of him, and he breathes out and watches her pull up different photos from the internal surveillance cams. (He's not going to bother asking how she hacked into those. He never does.)

"This," she says and zooms in on one shot, "is Agent Pendergrast after a regular night spent with her cat." McGee looks at a pair of slim hands and forearms crisscrossed by thin, red scratch marks that look nothing like the much broader ones Tony had on his neck.

"And this," Abby says and, just for emphasis, pulls up a fresh shot of DiNozzo with his head lowered and neck exposed, "is our Very Own Special Agent and his proof of attitude." She turns towards McGee and spreads her hands in the same way she does every time she unravels a complicated piece of evidence. There's a certain satisfaction ringing in her voice when she adds, "He's not been rolling around with a kittykat."

She looks at him all expectantly now, and he wonders if he's supposed to hand her a special reward cookie to celebrate her deductive skills. Okay, so Tony hasn't openly admitted a pretty girl scratched him up good, but he doesn't get what's so weird about--

Then again, it's Tony they're talking about here, and there's _always_ bragging involved, even when no scratching whatsoever occurred. And just like that, McGee's investigative instincts kick back in full force, and he begins to wonder.

*** *** ***

His tumbling thoughts come to a screeching halt when he almost runs into Ziva, rounding her desk. Which, in itself, isn't all that much out of the ordinary. Except that she turns a certain way now, and he's left staring at her neck. And her neck sports a faint purplish shadow that definitely wasn't there before lunch break. It looks a lot like a mouth was stuck there for a while.

He can't stop staring now, and after a few more seconds of him standing frozen on the spot and not stepping out of the way, Ziva's brows draw together into a slight frown.

"What?" she says, and there's a sharp tone to her voice suddenly. The tone she usually only has when she feels cornered. Maybe because she has noticed what he's staring at.

McGee's mind isn't quite finished yet with connecting the dots, though, and so his eyes stay fixed on her neck for another second until he, to his own horror, hears himself ask, "Let me guess -- you're cat-sitting, too?"

Tony's chair creaks just then, but McGee fights the burning temptation to turn around because Ziva's expression morphs into a clear threat for a heartbeat, and he has learned over the years that he should never turn his back on that particular expression. And yeah, he's sweating blood by now. But then, just like that, her face smoothes over once more, and she looks at him all playful and teasing instead. 

He's scared to death suddenly.

"Puppy, actually," she says just when he wants to freak out, and McGee's eyes widen.

"Puppy?" he croaks, and she nods and smiles broadly.

"Yes, McGee, I'm taking care of a big, fuzzy, overgrown puppy," she continues, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she has to fight a smile. "He's not particularly well-trained and my place is a mess, thanks to him. And he's got these huge paws and more strength than he knows and so much enthusiasm that he sometimes slobbers all over me."

Behind him, Tony makes a weird sound as if he's swallowing down a sarcastic remark and settles for clearing his throat instead, and McGee feels very non-metaphorical sweat break out on his forehead. By now all he wants is out of this situation. Desperately.

Just when he thinks about faking a phone call, Ziva's face softens suddenly, and her eyes flick to the side for a moment while she's briefly glancing at something that isn't McGee.

"But he's adorable in his enthusiasm," she continues slowly. "And strong, and the most loyal companion I could ask for, so I can never be mad at him for too long."

Her expression is strangely content all of a sudden, and McGee blinks in more confusion when she shoves him aside gently, then slides past him and into her chair. He feels like he almost has the solution to the riddle on his tongue now, the puzzle is really coming together, he just needs the tiniest missing connecting piece and--

Tony's eyes are lowered when McGee turns around, and he looks totally engrossed in his case file. His cheeks are strangely flushed, though, and there's a weird smile playing around his lips. It's not the kind of smile a gruesome report about a decapitation should bring up on his face, and that's what makes McGee shake his head as if he needs to clear it. The investigator in him suddenly steps back hard and votes to ignore all the hints and clues he's gathered so far because they are clearly misleading, and the part of him that is busy with keeping him mostly sane is all too happy to agree. 

There are things he _doesn't_ need to know about.


End file.
